


Cherries

by wildcannabis



Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, Sex, Teenagers, Virginity, Youth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-09
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:24:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildcannabis/pseuds/wildcannabis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's the boy all the girls go to when they need the job done respectably; Kenny muses over his faults as he takes on another "job".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherries

She wasn’t the first; not by any stretches of the imagination. No, she wasn’t the first, she wouldn’t be the last, and she wasn’t special, either. None of them were, to be honest. It was just something that happened, just a part of my life.

We were on her bed, a frilly little pink thing with stuffed animals and the works. I could feel her heartbeat beneath me, so nervous and quick-paced. I smirked. She was like a small animal, about to be made into prey. I guess that made me the predator, still metaphorically speaking.

Straddling her, my deft fingers slithered up the skin of her abdomen, removing her sheer, silky shirt. Beneath, she wore a lacy, cream-colored bra. It was too classy for my tastes, but sexy nonetheless. I had it unhooked and thrown to the floor within five seconds, and that wasn’t even a record by my standards.

A soft little smile crept onto her appealing features. A kind of look that said, “Don’t hurt me, please don’t. But I still want you.” Well, baby, you can’t always get what you want.

Next came her jeans, tight and curved around her legs. I unbuttoned them and a soft, “Oh!” escaped her. With her help, I had them somewhere on the floor instantaneously, and all that were left now were her sweet, sweet little panties. I shrugged out of my parka and shirt, and let her undo my belt because I knew it’d make me rock-hard. Her clumsy little fingers fumbled with it. Even better.

Now, if someone had called me out on being the lion to her lamb, I probably would not have argued. But then again, they ask for it. They really do. They _want_ it, and who am I to deny them? I mean, it’s me. I’m me. I’m very… desirable.

I chuckled silently at the thought, then stepped out of my jeans and boxers and got onto the girly bedding on my knees, removing the final obstacle in my way. I rocked from side to side as I scooted up towards her, then came down, hands grabbing onto her hipbones like they would a steering wheel.

We talked, cute and steamy and then outright dirty. She was pretty confident. Yeah, well, not for long, as I well knew. I told her to get ready, just out of courtesy. Then I entered.

Immediately, the look on her face changed, grew pained and discomforted. I offered her my hands, the only solace I could give as she fought back the scream, the pain of being ripped. Her eyes furiously shut, she whimpered into my collarbone and squeezed my fingers tightly. Another part of her squeezed another part of me tightly, too.

I was never too strong or fast to begin with, but as we got going, I just couldn’t help myself. Most of them got used to the feeling, or as used to it as they could, given the amount of time. She didn’t. She squirmed under me, hot tears transferring to my bare skin. I put on a soothing voice, telling her how good she was doing, kissing her swiftly on the neck and the jaw line and the cheekbone. Hot, melting kisses. They always loved my kisses.

“Kenny,” she panted out. It was not in a euphoric manner, but a panicked one. Was it wrong that that turned me on more than moans of pleasure ever would?

“Babe, I’m right here.” They were barely words. I rushed them off my tongue and onto her sweat-sticky skin, a formality, almost.

“Kenny, please…” she pleaded. Oh, yeah. That was nice. Just like that. Say it again.

-

I didn’t take mercy on her for a while and felt just a tad bit bad about it. She was a good lay, though. It was justified in my mind… or, okay… maybe more in my member than in my mind, but still.

I pulled out, breathing heavily, still on top of her. My tanned skin was glistening in the slightest. She looked relieved, and tilted her chin up in order to deliver a small kiss to the hollow of my cheek. I grinned, whispered, “I’m sorry,” and was out the door five minutes later.

She wasn’t the first, nor the last, and nothing special. And for that, I could not apologize.


End file.
